How To Get Hershel Layton Mpregnant
by Wigzard
Summary: Descole knocks up Layton. (I am a fan of eins80/87, someone who draws a lot of good Professor Layton/deslay fan art. Sometimes though she draws things that leave me absolutely stumped as to what's going on, and sometimes that leads me to fill in the gaps and write what I think is happening. The following is based off of five images found on her eins87 twitpic account.)
1. Sand

The kitchen smelled of boiling pots of Earl Gray and sand.

When Layton and Descole moved into their super sweet home, Descole felt that something was missing. A few weeks after they had settled down, Descole came home from work with hundreds of bags of sand. He told Layton that he was going to turn the bathroom and possibly their bedroom into a beach. Layton shrugged it off without ever saying a word, knowing that the remodeling project would soon be dropped for yet another ridiculous and stupid idea.

Today Descole would be coming home later than usual from work (what he does for a living, nobody knows), so Layton decided to invite his friend Simon over for good company and afternoon tea.

"Lovely weather we're having, huh Simon?"

There was a hurricane outside.

Simon knew right away that something was troubling Layton.

"I'm sensing some depression here. Hershel, is everything okay?"

Layton took a quick sip of his tea and tried to change the subject.

"Lovely weather we're having, huh Simon?"

Sounds of heavy rain, gusty winds and neighbors screaming as their houses were being pulled out from the ground outside filled the silence in the kitchen.

"You know, Hershel," Simon spoke up, "we've been friends for, what? One week now? You can tell me anything."

"Descole wants to have a son named Dax but I'm not sure I want to be pregnant yet!"

Layton buried his head into his hands and sobbed. The married life was taking a toll on him.

"Can't you guys just adopt a son named Dax?

"No because nobody wants to name their baby Dax!"

By now Layton was curled in a ball on the floor, rocking back and forth to a pattern of boo-hoos and baby blues.

Simon could not bare to see his best friend in so much pain. He picked Layton up from the floor and sat him back down in his chair. Then he grabbed a couple of bags of Descole's sand and brought them over to the table they were sitting at.

"If this doesn't convince you to have a baby, then I don't know what will."

One by one, Simon poured the bags of sand into a big Ziploc bag he happened to have in his pocket. (Like Layton, Simon was a huge nerd and fascinated with dirt. He carried Ziploc bags with him everywhere in case he happened to walk upon dirt he's never seen before and wanted to take it home.) Once the bag was full, he passed it to Layton and told him to put it underneath the orange turtleneck that he was wearing.

Layton complied. The bags felt soft and squishy, but full, very full, like a pregnant lady's stomach that was full of baby. He liked the way it felt.

"That settles it! I'm having this baby! But how do I get pregnant?"

"It's actually very easy for a man to get pregnant," Simon said, taking a small folded piece of paper out from his coat pocket. "Take this pamphlet and read it carefully. It will teach you the secret position you and Descole need to do in order to get you pregnant."

"You're a true bro, Simon!"

They hugged each other like true bros and said their goodbyes because Descole could be heard stepping out of the carriage outside and would throw a fit if he saw Layton with another man in their house.


	2. The Position

"WHO THE FUCK OPENED MY SAND?"

Descole dropped the kiddie pool and fake palm trees he was carrying and pulled out his sword.

"LAAAAAAAAAAAYTOOOOOOOOOON!"

"Please don't hurt me with your sword, Descole!" pleaded Layton, ripping the cloth of the table and hiding under it like a kid in a crappy ghost costume. "I found a way for us to have a baby!"

"Really?" Descole retrieved his sword and spoke calmly again, as if he forgot he was about to murder his husband less than three seconds ago. "Does it involve sand? I don't want any sand getting up in my penis hole, but I'll do anything for Dax."

Still quivering and shivering underneath the table cloth, Layton passed the pamphlet Simon had given him to Descole, who read it to himself and blushed.

"Where did you get this?" he asked.

"Uh, I uh, ordered it online!" Layton lied.

"We don't have a computer."

"Oh, did I say _ONLINE_?" Layton giggled nervously. "I mean't to say _SWAN DIVE_."

"You are sounding really stupid right now, but I could care less since the feelings in my dick are more important than my hearing now. Let's go make a family."

Descole charged into the bedroom and started to make the bed. (He refused to have sex on a messy bed, always reminding Layton that bed bugs can make your balls itch for days.)

Layton pulled the table cloth off his body and went over to join his boo. When he got to the door, he stopped and processed his thoughts.

Part of the bedroom floor was already covered in sand. Just like the beach project, what if Dax was just another phase that Descole would soon drop? Did he really want to sacrifice his body for nine months for a baby that only he would raise and care for? The cons began to outway the pros, but when Layton watched Descole hop up and down on the bed shouting "Dax! Dax! Dax!", he knew what was right. He wanted to make his "Jeanie weanie" happy. (Descole hated that nickname.) He walked into the bedroom and began practicing with Descole the steps written in the pamphlet.

"Okay now," said Descole, "this is the big game. We've only got one chance. Once I stick my cock inside you, there is no turning back. Layton, are you ready?"

Layton was already ripping his clothes off.

"Take me to the car wash, Jean!"

The car wash was a method of foreplay Descole invented consisting of flavored lube as soap, spit shining, and breathing hot air over a specific area of the body that needs a car washing. (Wherever that area of the body is is up to your imagination.)

"All clean!" Descole finished.

"Boy, that car wash really revved up my engine," Layton winked. "Would you like to take it for a test drive?"

"Vroom vroom!" said Descole, and hopped into the backseat.

"Normally I'd tell you to wear a seat belt!" Layton laughed at his own corny sex joke, but Descole was too busy plowing away to laugh. He was going past the speed limit.

"Slow down, Descole! Don't forget the position!"

"Thank you for reminding me politely, Layton. I was about to blow my seed all over the place! Okay…"

In an insanely acrobatic act so expertly and painlessly pulled off by a trained ballet dancer like Descole himself, he took his right leg and swooped it over Layton's shoulder. Then the two of them started chanting the spell that would bring to them their beautiful son.

_"Dax! Dax! Dax! Dax!"_

With every pound to the ass (sorry), the chanting grew louder and louder.

_"DAX! DAX! DAX! DAX!"_

Descole released his potential Dax's into the goal. As soon as they finished, he put his face close to Layton's stomach and said,

"Hello, Dax. This is your dad speaking. I just wanted to say that you're the coolest son in the world. I promise to take you to all the cool amusement parks and R-rated films when you are born. I love you, Dax."

With that, Descole got up from the bed and went to the kitchen to reheat the pizza he had for breakfast. Layton dialed Simon's number.

"We did the position, Simon! Thank you!"

"That's great. I forgot to tell you that there's a 0.0001% chance of you getting pregnant."

"Fuck you, Simon."


	3. Sandwiches

Several months had passed since their attempt at having a baby. Descole had dropped the beach idea and had begun a new remodeling project, to build a roller coaster through out the entire house. He had not given up on Dax though, which troubled Layton's guilty conscience gravely.

"I just don't have the heart to tell him," he said to Simon over sandwiches in the park. The two bros agreed to meet each other again for lunch. "Maybe he won't try to kill me if I tell him it was a miscarriage."

"You really need to get rid of that sword," said Simon.

Before Simon could take a second bite from his sandwich, a raving mad pigeon flew in from behind and yanked the whole thing from his hands. He didn't even realize his sandwich was stolen when he took the bite that chomped off his entire finger.

"FUCK! MY FUCKING FINGER! I HATE BIRDS!"

Layton started to giggle as Simon's voice grew higher and higher from the pain.

"IT'S NOT FUCKING FUNNY, LAYTON!" Simon screamed like a little girl. "TAKE ME TO THE HOSPITAL NOW!"

The two friends hopped into the Laytonmobile and zoomed their way to the nearest hospital. When they were shown to the doctor, Simon's voice was so unrecognizable and impossible to understand that Layton had to speak for him.

"What's going on, boys?" the doctor asked the grown men.

"You see, doctor, we were eating strawberry tuna sandwiches at the park when-"

"STRAWBERRY TUNA SANDWICHES?" the doctor stepped back.

"W-well yes, I know it sounds gross but I was craving strawberry tuna…OH MY GOD THE CRAVINGS!"

Layton pulled out the pamphlet that he had saved in his coat pocket and showed it to the doctor. On the back was a list of signs indicating male pregnancy, and sure enough, strange sandwich cravings was on the list.

"HOLY SHIT, YOU'RE PREGNANT!" the doctor shouted.

"I must tell Descole right away!"

Layton gave the doctor Simon's severed finger and hauled ass out of the hospital and back onto the road. He did not stop for a single red light. (Who has time to obey the rules of the road when his own reproductive organs were already able to disobey logic itself?) All Layton could think about was the look on Descole's half covered face when he'd hear the good news.


	4. Realizations

Descole was tinkering with his roller coaster tracks when Layton rushed through the door bearing great news.

Descole, I have wonderful news I have to tell you!"

"So do I, Layton! Look, I designed a loop in front of the t.v. so that the people riding the roller coaster won't get in the way of the people watching t.v.!"

"Wow Descole, that's really cool, but I think we should both sit down before I tell you my news."

"Okay."

Descole went to sit in the roller coaster but Layton pulled him toward the sofa instead because pregnant people shouldn't be riding roller coasters. They both sat down, with Layton sitting on Descole's lap.

"Jeez, Layton, have you gained weight?"

"I'm pregnant, Descole."

Wait a minute," Descole's voice rose, "you mean to tell me that there was a chance you weren't actually pregnant?"

Afraid of his manbaby husband acting out irrationally again, Layton kicked Descole's sword that was lying on the ground underneath the couch.

"It doesn't matter now, Descole! You're going to have your son!"

Descole raised his arms high into the air and shouted, "DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAX! "

"There's just one thing I want to talk about," Layton sighed as he traced his finger around the outline of Descole's nipple. (Whenever Descole gets super excited his nipples harden. It's science.) "I've heard that the pain a woman bears in childbirth is mighty strong, and the only way that pain can be described to a man is to imagine urinating a tennis ball."

"Yowch. I'm glad I'm not the one being pregnant," Descole laughed.

"My point is," Layton continued, "if I'm the one who's going to have to go through labor, don't you think I should have a little bit more say in this situation?"

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU IMPLYING?" shouted Descole. He tried to stand up on his feet but Layton's weight kept him down. It was as if he was getting fatter and fatter by the minute.

Layton kicked the sword even farther away. He was as sweaty as a clam or however that saying goes, but he had to make himself clear.

"I'm implying that I don't like the name Dax, and I'm going to give our son a better name."

"Ha! A better name than Dax! Good one, Layton."

"I'm not kidding, Descole. We're naming the baby Alfendy."

The world started to spin and go black through Descole's mask, blacker than it was before while peeping through those eye holes. He couldn't breathe or think. Everything he had ever believed in (such as Dax, a happy family, or the Easter bunny) was plunged into a pit of darkness. The only things he could see now were the letters A, L, F, E, N, D and Y written in blood.

Layton felt the cravings come back and started to chew on Descole's expensive designer boa. Descole didn't even care.


	5. A Letter To Simon

_Dear Simon,_

_It's been six months since I ditched you at the hospital. How is your finger? Hopefully you can still write me back! (That was a joke. It was funny because if you hadn't lost your finger, it wouldn't be difficult to write me back.)_

_I never got to properly thank you for indirectly getting me pregnant. I am about ready to burst! Little Alfendy would like to thank you too, that is if he wasn't inside of me._

_Descole and I have agreed to name the baby Alfendy. Unfortunately, Descole hasn't spoken a word since. He stopped building the roller coaster and has moved on to a new project yet again. His current hobby is collecting tears into old milk jugs. We must have hundreds of gallons of his tears in the house! I do feel bad for dampening his spirits, but in time he will realize how stupid the name Dax was._

_Oh God, my water just broke! I better stick a stamp on this and drop it off in the mailbox and then get Descole to drive me to the hospital. Until we meet next!_

___~Hershel Layton_


	6. Fucking Finally

"DESCOLE! Hurry up and get in the car before I stain the seats of my Laytonmobile!"

Descole made a disgusted face. He hated the name "Laytonmobile."

He took a marker and a mini whiteboard and wrote "GOOD", then held the sign up to the front window.

"HOLY SHIT, DESCOLE. I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR YOUR GAY SASS! GET IN THE FUCKING VEHICLE!"

Descole erased the message and rewrote "all right, I'm cumming" and didn't get into the car until Layton saw the sign.

The drive to the hospital was intense, with Layton screaming directions and obscenities that Descole had never even heard of before. Layton was swearing for two now. Descole wanted to get out of the stupid car for good. This time he was literally going past the speed limit.

Only a few blocks away from the hospital, they were pulled over by a cop with nothing better to do than bust people having emergencies.

"Let me handle this one," Layton said to Descole while rolling down his window. "It's not like you're going to fucking talk anyway, you big manbaby."

"Where are you two gentlemen off to in such a hurry?" the officer asked. The name on his badge read "Dick."

"To the hospital, sir. I'm in labor and I need to get there ASAP!"

"HA! Men don't get pregnant!" Officer Dick laughed as he pulled out two pairs of handcuffs from his pocket.

"I'm not pregnant, I'm MPREGnant!"

"Everybody knows that mpreg is just a myth created by young girls who have no other interests in writing if it doesn't have to do with their OH-TEE-PEE. Now put your hands over your heads and-"

"YO FUCK THE POLICE!" Descole shouted and hit the gas. They zoomed through road blocks and traffic cones.

"Wow, Descole, if I wasn't about to piss a tennis ball, I would have a huge erection right now from how dangerous and sexy you are."

"Is that baby really going to come out of your urethra?" For the first time ever in his selfish narcissistic life, Descole appeared to be concerned for another living thing.

"I'm afraid so," Layton sighed. "I mean, I could get a C-section, but for the sake of this story's plot, the hospital here is very shady and demands five thousand up front for C-sections."

"Fuck this gay Earth," Descole said.

They lost sight of Officer Dick and made it to the hospital just in time.

"I promise to never leave your side," Descole whispered into Layton's ear as he was being pushed down the hallway in a stretcher.

"Thank you, Descole."

One second later and Descole was nowhere to be seen.

"Fuck you, Descole."

Layton was wheeled into his room and greeted by the same loud mouthed doctor who diagnosed his mpregnancy when Simon's finger was bitten off.

"NICE TO MEET YOU AGAIN, HERSHEL LAYTON."

The dots on Layton's face eyed the doctor suspiciously.

"I didn't know you delivered babies."

"YOU CAUGHT ME RED-HANDED, OR AT LEAST ABOUT TO BE," the doctor roared with laughter.

Layton grimaced at probably the worst and most uncalled for joke in the history of mankind and said, "just get this fucking thing over with."

The doctor picked up random sharp tools from his medical kit and said, "LET'S GET THIS BABY STARTED!"

"WAIT!" Descole barged into the room with a wad of cash in his hands. "Please do a C-section. I don't want to see my husband's private parts get wrecked."

"Descole, where did you get all that money?" Layton asked, trying his hardest to not let that baby slip out.

"I sold my kidneys," Descole panted, clutching his stomach.

"But Descole, you always told me how your kidneys were your favorite parts of your body!"

"CAN'T YOU FUCKING SEE, LAYTON?" Descole unnecessarily raised his voice.

Layton shook his head and said, "not most of the time."

"It was either my kidneys or your penis. I did this for you and for…"

Descole's face went green as if he was about to hurl.

"Alfendy."

He hurled.

"Wow, I never thought I'd hear you say such kind words! Thank you Desc – YOWCH!"

The doctor started the surgery.

"YOU IDIOT, YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO FUCKING SEDATE ME FIRST!"

"OOPS!" the doctor shrugged comically.

Because you, the reader, have made it this far into this disgusting tale, I will spare you the details of the child birth.

"Is this shit over yet?" groaned Descole, underneath a tent made out of hospital blankets.

"HOLY SHIT," exclaimed the doctor. "IT'S TWINS!"

Layton gave birth to two beautiful twin babies. The boy was named Dax, and the girl was named Alfendy.

**~ THE MPREG-END. ~**


End file.
